


The Blood of A Revolution

by trashtacular15



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Violence, co written by me and my amazing friend, im so happy to write this, slow ass build up is my middle name, thats a lie its Nicole, vampire!burr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-17 03:25:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10585443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashtacular15/pseuds/trashtacular15
Summary: “Have you never heard the stories, my dear Burr? Of the creatures that walk in the night, praying on fools dumb enough to venture out on their own? ” He said in a sneering whisper, tightening his grip on Burr’s face. Burr winced, letting out a grunt of pain as he tried to pry his hand off, but to no avail.“V-vampires?!” Burr gasped in disbelief, a look of realization and horror spreading across his face. James let out an inhuman growl, his eyes flashing with a sinister red glow.“Miranda may have made the wrong sucker a cuckold, but you have to answer for your words, Burr.” He said in a deep, threateningly low voice.AKA: burr gets turned into a vampire by james reynolds after successfully divorcing him from his wife. drama, angst, and plot ensue.





	1. Prologue: Summer In the City

**Author's Note:**

> ME AND MY FRIEND WROTE THIS AND WE HOPE YALL LOVE IT AS MUCH AS WE DO. I ALSO HOPE Y'ALL STICK AROUND FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS TOO

**1793**

 

Burr slowly made his way through the empty and misty street, the last slivers of daylight disappearing over the New York skyline. A cold breeze ruffled his coat as he walked, making him shiver. It was a strangely cold summer night, but that did little to lower Burr’s mood. He hummed quietly, recalling his achievements of the day. The battle for obtaining Maria Reynolds’ divorce from her husband had been long and grueling, but nonetheless it had ended in a resounding success for the defense. He allowed himself a small smile – after all, he was exceedingly talented in his field, knew all the right cues, took all the right approaches. Every action was meticulously timed, and that’s why he had the upper hand. He just had to wait for it.

 

His mind turned to the opposition, a Mister James Reynolds. According to his client, the man was ruthless and cunning, abusive in his relationship to her. Accusations of beating and mistreatment had formed the main crux of the defense’s case, making a pro-divorce verdict seem inevitable.

Nonetheless, the assured nature of the case did not make it a tedious one. Prior to Maria’s divorce wish, Burr had been well aware of what the press were calling the first politically-involved sex scandal ever; the headlines were impossible to miss, along with the affair confession (nicknamed, rather suitingly, _The Reynolds Pamphlet_ ) that those headlines raged about, written by Treasury Secretary Miranda himself, of whom apparently, Reynolds had blackmailed into keeping the affair secret in exchange for money. This was a man who was clearly manipulative, so naturally, Burr felt little sympathy for his cause, but his original smile slowly faded as he pondered upon him further.

James Reynolds had not taken the end result well, from what Burr could tell of his dramatically paled expression upon the verdict. A certain, chilling darkness had shrouded his eyes as they met Burr’s whilst the judge explained his decision, locking him into a accusatory, almost deadly stare until he took his final, retreating steps out of the courtroom.

 

Burr shuddered, although now it wasn’t because he was cold, no matter how much he wanted to believe so.

 

Suddenly, he paused mid-step, as if turned to stone. A rustling — he could have sworn he heard it — had come from behind him, possibly even the faintest tap of footsteps. Now painfully uneasy, Burr slowly turned his head behind him, as if he were expecting to see a horrifying monster, one with shrouded eyes and a deadly stare, looking back at him. As it turned out instead, there was nothing especially interesting, save for the long-abandoned storefronts and the occasional small, whirling eddies of leaves and dust, dancing in the hazy streetlight glow.

 

What time was it anyway? Burr thought to himself, considering the dangers of lurking alone in the middle of empty streets, passing ominously shadowed alley entrances late at night. The moon provided little guidance to him as he carefully walked towards his house, cautiously looking from side to side. He tried to ignore the increasingly prominent crawling sensation that lingered on his back, the eerily close echoes of footsteps encroaching on him as the mist surrounding him grew thicker, increasing his pace as the footsteps grew closer, closer, closer–  

 

Burr spun around, his heart pounding. But once again, there was nothing there.

He shook his head, scolding himself for letting his mind play tricks on him. He turned, continuing briskly towards his house, paying his past worries little thought as he passed yet another blackened alleyway. He expected to be home soon, after all.

 

What he did not expect was to be suddenly and harshly thrown into that very alleyway by a tall, silhouetted figure. Landing in a heap, he froze at the sound of loud, sinister laughter.

 

“Well good evening Mister Burr, sir!” said the figure, gesturing dramatically. From behind him two more figures appeared, one seeming to materialize from the mist itself. He scrambled to his feet, backing up continuously until he hit the wall behind him. Shit, he desperately thought to himself, sparing rapid glances for any other direction to turn to, yet met with no avail; now he had no way to escape.

 

“W-Who are you?” He said, trying to keep his voice steady. The figure let out a chuckle, him and his companions stepping closer. It was James Reynolds, followed closely by, to Burr’s visible surprise, Charles Lee and a meek looking Samuel Seabury, who seemed to be carrying a rather plain bottle of what looked to be red wine.

Momentarily, Burr considered his situation. He was trapped in a dank alleyway in the middle of the night with his client’s recently-made-ex-husband, his fellow (to Burr’s chagrin), rather strange attorney, along with Samuel Seabury, whose unusually uptight, arrogantly chipper demeanour had given way to an unprecedented shyness, as if he didn’t even want to be there in the first place. It would have seemed ridiculous if it wasn’t for James’ intimidating dominance gripping him like a vice, coupled with the equally chilling look that had taken over his eyes, which were boring right into Burr’s own as if he were nothing, the most fragile thing in the world.

“Forgive me. I forgot humans have…” A pause, a chuckle. One that sounded scarily inhuman. “...limited eyesight.” he spat in a mockingly polite, saccharine tone. He turned to Charles, a dark smile plastered onto his now horrifyingly gaunt, pallid-looking face.

 

“Would you care to do the honors, Lee?”

 

Charles grinned evilly in response. “With pleasure.” he said.

And like a flash, Charles was on him, grabbing his arms and pinning him to the wall. Before Burr could react, Charles head ducked down toward his neck, and a sudden, immeasurable feeling of pain filled him. He tried to scream, to fight back, but he was paralysed. He could only stare wide eyed into the distance, the only sounds coming from him being slight pained gasps. He felt himself grow dizzy, his vision beginning to darken around the edges. But just as he was about to pass out, Charles released him, backing away and wiping his mouth. Burr felt his stomach turn as he saw Charles’ teeth, which had turned into sharp and jagged fangs. He tried to take a step forward, but a rush of nausea and lightheadedness washed over him like a tidal wave, bringing him to his knees as a weak cry escaped him. He put his arms out, barely stopping himself from completely collapsing into a wreck. Breathing heavily, He raised a trembling hand to his neck, his eyes widening as he felt it drenched with a warm, sticky fluid. Blood.

“Wh-....what did you-” He began in a shaky whisper, but was cut off by James’ laughter.

 

“You haven’t guessed? And I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

 

James advanced forward, leaning down and gripping Burr by the chin, his now sharp nails digging into his face as he dragged him upward. Burr let out a gasp of pain, grabbing James’ arm as he was nearly dragged to his feet. James brought his face close, flashing Burr a toothy grin that proudly showcased his large white fangs.

 

“Have you never heard the stories, my dear Burr? Of the creatures that walk in the night, praying on fools dumb enough to venture out on their own? ” He said in a sneering whisper, tightening his grip on Burr’s face. Burr winced, letting out a grunt of pain as he tried to pry his hand off, but to no avail.

“V-vampires?!” Burr gasped in disbelief, a look of realization and horror spreading across his face. James let out an inhuman growl, his eyes flashing with a sinister red glow.

 

“Miranda may have made the wrong sucker a cuckold, but you have to answer for your words, Burr.” He said in a deep, threateningly low voice. He extended his free hand, snapping his fingers.

 

“Sammy, fetch this man a drink.” he said almost jeeringly. Samuel practically scrabbled forward, moving to place the wine bottle in James’ hand. James violently grasped Samuel’s wrist, dragging him closer. He let out a small squeak, staring up at James, petrified. James smirked as he looked into his companion’s terror-stricken gaze with absolute nonchalance, as if Samuel had just asked him out for a drink with Charles. He let go of his wrist, snatching the bottle from his hand as he scrambled back.

“Thank you, _dearest_ ,” he said in a soft and sinister tone, popping the cork of the bottle with his thumb, but not before he briefly motioned towards Charles, speaking dryly, “you can go back to your little knight in shining armour now.”

Samuel's eyes darted towards Charles for a moment,bearing an expression of slight, but nonetheless visible shame. James’ head abruptly snapped back to Burrs, bringing the bottle close to his mouth.

“You know, I’d thought about just killing you, but…” he said as he pressed the rim of the bottle to his lips.

 

“This seemed like a much better idea.”

 

He shoved the bottle into Burr’s mouth, using the hand gripping his face to keep him from closing it, locking his body in place with the other hand like unbreakable shackles. A warm, irony liquid flooded his mouth, something that definitely wasn't wine, something that was wrong, very, very wrong. He gagged, desperately trying not to swallow the vile substance, even despite feeling some of the thick liquid ooze down his throat. It burned as it hit his stomach, causing his body to jolt. James released his hold on Burr, watching him crumble to the ground as the wildfire inside him spread through his veins from his finger tips to his toes, boiling his blood. Burr clutched his stomach, wailing in agony as his body reacted to whatever the hell he was just forced to drink with erratic spasms, as if it was being repeatedly jolted with electricity. He could feel himself changing, whatever was in that drink had turned him into… _something_ , something horrific.

Burr couldn’t tell exactly how much time had passed when the pain finally began to dissipate. All he knew was that it had felt like an eternity, stripping all the warmth from his body, leaving him a gasping, writhing mess. Constant pounding filled his head like a beating drum as he lay against the wall, face wet with tears he couldn't remember beginning to cry. He staggered to his feet, trembling. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob as he stumbled, bracing himself on the wall of the alley, one hand tightly grasping his stomach.

 

“What...d-did you do to me, you b-bastard!?” He shouted, still shaking convulsively. James let out another laugh.

 

“I’ve given you a chance to redeem yourself, Burr...” James snarled, anger dripping from his words, his voice laced with venom, “...I suggest you take it.”

 

Burr stared at him with horrified confusion, until he felt something in his mouth that made his blood somehow colder than it originally was beforehand. He slowly inched a trembling hand to his mouth, refusing to believe it. No… no… he couldn’t possibly-

 

And upon touching his teeth, he realized they had been replaced with fangs.


	2. The Story of Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was as peaceful as it got considering the amount of people. 
> 
> That is, until John had the bright idea of playing truth or dare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so we ended up rewriting this entire chapter in like 2 days and i just want yall to know it took up 5 pages on google docs, but i feel like hardly anything happened story wise. NEXT CHAPTER WILL HAVE MORE PLOT I SWEAR.  
> ALSO Alex speaks Spanish because Lin does.

**Present day**

 

Easy laughter and relaxed, slightly drunken conversation drifted from the largely quiet space that the group of friends occupied, the only other noises to accompany them being those of crickets, the occasional hissing of newly-opened beer cans, and the distant rumble of cars traversing the roads further out. The night air was pleasant; the sweltering warmth from earlier that day had been drained slightly, but nonetheless it was still a stark contrast from the usual chilled summer evenings. Alex and his custom gang of friends, consisting of John, Lafayette, and Hercules, along with Thomas and James, were spending the evening relaxing, enjoying one another's company as a full moon rose over the city. 

The whole get together was actually Thomas’s idea, as a way to celebrate them surviving their finals; under normal circumstances, them getting together like this was an almost alien concept. However, this year’s particularly hard exams had forced the two groups together, causing a strange bond to form between them.  The event was, of course, taking place on the estate Thomas had inherited from his parents (which Alex loved to tease him about), with the whole group having set up camp beyond the main garden and onto the grass that surrounded it, shadowed by the thick trees lying behind them.

Thomas and James sat together on the grass, conversing amongst themselves whilst sneaking glances on occasion to chuckle as Alexander make a fool of himself, draped over John like a sloth on his back and holding up a stolen beer towards the sky, rambling incoherently about politics.

A tad further along sat Hercules, smiling contentedly as Lafayette dramatically stomped over towards where Alex had now slumped over on John’s lap, leaning perilously forwards whilst vainly attempting to retrieve his beer, only to be met with a slap on the wrist.

It was as peaceful as it got considering the amount of people. 

 

That is, until John had the bright idea of playing truth or dare. 

 

“Come onnnn, it’ll be fun!” said John, flashing a mischievous smile. After excessive pleading and reassurance that nothing too extreme was going to happen everyone (except James) eventually agreed, shuffling in closer to the flickering flames of the small, yet cozy fire that the group shared. Shenanigans, despite any warnings, were to be expected.

At first, the game was merely casual, made up of mostly tamer dares and general truths about crushes in high school and embarrassing moments. It wasn’t until later that everyone began to feel the slow burn intensifying.

John surveyed the various members of the group with narrowed eyes and a devious glint, as if a hawk carefully selecting its prey, perusing around at its choices. He acknowledged everyone with a passing look, taking the time to make his eye contact linger ever so slightly too long, increasing the tension, before slowly, slyly smirking upon meeting Thomas’ nervous gaze.

 

“Thomas, truth or dare?” 

“Dare.”

 

“I dare you… to take off your shirt.”

 

Thomas stared, slightly confused by request, but shrugged. He somewhat awkwardly pulled off his shirt, stretching as he did so. John grinned widely, bumping Alex, who had been talking to Laf, to gain his attention whilst still smugly looking straight ahead. He turned, his eyes going wide like dinner plates when he spotted Thomas. The beer he’d been holding slipped from his hand, its remnants trickling from the can and faintly fizzing as they spilled onto his shoe, but he hardly seemed to notice.

 

“Mierda santa…” He muttered, blushing. Thomas froze when he realized Alex was staring, face flushing. Laf wolf whistled, a large grin on his face.

 

“Nice abs, _ la mignonne _ .” He said cheekily, earning a glare from Thomas.

 

“Laf, truth or dare?” Thomas said, a shady smile on his face. Laf shot him a determined look.

 

“Dare.”

 

“I dare  _ you _ to take off  _ your _ shirt.” he said smugly. Laf gave a suggestive smile. 

“You could have just asked~” he practically purred. Laf stood, slowly pulling off his shirt, a light sway to his hips. His eyes fluttered shut as he ran his hands down his ribs, his movements achingly, deliberately slow yet alluring, gradually easing his way down to his stomach, before stopping at his hips. His eyes blinked open, shooting Thomas a casual, amused look. 

 

“Happy?” He said teasingly, smirking to himself and holding back laughter as Thomas looked away, his face burning intensely. Alex, John, and Hercules stared slack-jawed at him, speechless. For a moment, the only sounds that could be heard coming from anyone at all were those of James, who had settled himself alongside Thomas and was resting on his leg, tapping away on his phone. 

Laf let out a mocking cackle, eventually sitting back down, but not before shooting Hercules a subtle wink.

The game continued long into the evening, and as the darkness deepened and the fire crackled soothingly, spreading its warmth, the group became progressively quieter, the loud excitement just hours before having being tamed into a comfortable peace. However, just as the night felt like it was drawing to a close, Thomas had one final turn.

 

“Truth or dare, Laurens? What will it be?” he asked tiredly, his voice losing its form as he yawned loudly mid-sentence.

 

“Dare.”

 

“OK, so I dare you…” He paused, the alcohol making his mind hazy. He looked off toward the forest that partially encompassed his estate, grinning sleepily. “I dare you to run to The Old Cave, barefoot.”  

 

The “Old Cave” he was referring to was a comically large cave opening that happened to reside a little ways into the forest; which, for the longest time, had been blocked off. It had become somewhat of a challenge around the college they all attended to try and clear it, most attempts ending in the trespassers making enough noise to wake Thomas, who would then have to shoo them off his property like a grumpy elderly person.  

 

A resounding chorus of  _ ooooooohs _ came from everyone except for James, who had suddenly looked up from his phone for the first time since the game began, a look of worry on his face as he turned towards John, who was already kicking off his shoes, practically leaping to his feet with a questionable amount of excitement for someone who would no doubt be covered in scrapes and bruises before the night was over. 

 

“Guys, are you really sure this is a good idea?” James said, has voice considerably more sober than the others. “I mean, John’s fairly drunk, he’ll probably get hurt–”

 

“James, he’ll be fiiiiiiiiiine, John’s a grown man.” Alex interrupted, beer in hand. James stared at him with uncertainty, trying not to think of all the different things that could happen to the poor man, being left to his own devices like that, and with all the alcohol currently in his system... 

He threw Thomas a questioning glance, hoping he wasn’t serious about all this, only to feel his heart sink as he received a lighthearted chuckle back. 

 

“Alex is right, nothing’s going to happen to John. Besides, if he stays too long, we’ll just have to pick him up.”

 

“But–”

 

“Relaxxxxxx, James. Anyway, there’s nothing you can do about it now, he’s already gone.” Hercules said, motioning his head towards the spot where John had been, which was now empty. James could see John’s form in the distance, disappearing into the dark forest. He let out a defeated sigh.

 

James leaned back against Thomas as the group began to talk once again, unable to shake his feelings of concern. Trying to push his worries from his mind, he picked up his phone, wondering briefly how long it would it take John to finish this ridiculous dare, before quickly typing in the passcode and skimming through his games, keen for a distraction to his thoughts. He could deal with the outcome later.

 

Time passed as the men huddled by the fire and casually talked amongst themselves, the conversation coming to a gradual halt until eventually, Laf spoke up.

 

“John has been gone for a while now”

 

Silence fell over the group like a thick, murky cloud everyone realized just how long John had been gone. Fear flashed on Alex’s face, before his expression quickly cleared as he stood, staring into the forest with a look of determination.

 

“I’m going to get him,” he said, heading towards the forest entrance, continuing even as his friends shouted for him to come back, “don’t worry!” He yelled back “I’ll be fine!”

 

Hercules sighed, sitting down defeatedly and shooting James, Thomas and Laf an exasperated look that could only be provoked by Alex as they watched him disappear into the underbrush.

 

As Alex entered the dense forest, he began to call for John. The farther he made it into the forest, with no response from his friend, the more he could feel the pit of anxiety growing in his stomach. He increased his pace, desperation beginning to seap into his voice as he walked further and further into the forest, breaking out into a run as he saw the spiky moonlit outline of the cave peeking through the foliage.

 

As Alex neared the clearing in front of the cave’s gloomy entrance, he froze, realizing with a start that the cave was actually  _ open _ . He could hear a faint conversation coming from two figures seated near the entrance, their voices drifting through the thick underbrush.

  
  


“...and I guess that's what happened for most of the 1900s, but I'm not really sure. Like I said, I'm not very good at this.” 

 

It was John speaking, followed by another voice, noticeably softer and more subdued.

 

“It’s… it’s fine. Any information is good information.”

 

Alex creeped closer to the cave, taking caution and crouching down amongst the bushes, peering out at the strangest scene he had ever seen. 

John sat on the ground, covered in scrapes and dust, a few nasty looking bruises on his arms and legs. One of his feet was practically mottled in blotches, all in hues of dark purplish-brown, and resting on a pile of ratty looking cloth. Yet even despite the clear pain some of his cuts caused him, he still mustered a bright, inviting smile at the other figure, who appeared as if he had taken a time machine from another century. His clothes had a distinct 1850s look to them, despite their battered and torn condition, showing clear signs of age. He bore rusty, broken shackles on his neck, hands, and feet, bits of ripped chain still still dangling off each of them. His hair was matted and filthy, draping over his shoulders in twists and clumps and sticking out almost randomly in every which direction, giving the impression that it had not seen a hair comb and even the slightest drop of water in nearly a decade. 

Alex briefly wondered as to where the man could have possibly come from, and what he was doing in the middle of the forest as he edged further into the clearing, deciding to finally make his presence known.

“John?” He called out. 

 

John turned, a look of pleasant surprise on his face. “Alex!” he said cheerfully. The other figure started at the sound of Alex’s voice, his eyes widening as they landed on Alex face.   
“You’ll never guess what I found in The Old Cave,” John said, practically beaming.

 

“Since when was that thing actually open?” He asked,

 

“I know! I was wondering the same thing!” John replied offhandedly, speaking with zeal and rushing to offer an explanation whilst shooting glances from Alex to his companion, who seemed to be growing progressively angrier, his eyes still locked on Alex’s face.“So I went to go check it out and, well, I kinda fell - dont worry! It’s not as bad as it looks - but there was this guy! In the cave! He says he’s a-”

Before John could continue, the man suddenly bolted up, crossing the distance between himself and Alex in a split-second, roughly grabbing the smaller man and pinning him to a tree by his collar. Alex screamed, looking down at the man in fear. His eyes glowed an unnatural shade of crimson as he snarled, flashing a threatening set of inhumanly sharp teeth.

 

“ _ Miranda… _ ” The man growled threateningly, glaring at Alex with a cloudy, unfocused look in his eyes. John struggled to his feet, letting out a yell of alarm as he looked between the two men, raising his hands up and trying to diffuse the strange man’s sudden anger towards his friend.

 

“Woah woah! G-guys, come on, let’s just talk about this, please…”

 

Alex writhed against the tree in an attempt to free himself from the other man’s vice grip, but to no avail. He was forced to look up into his face, taking in his dirtied yet surprisingly youthful appearance, before finally meeting his blood red eyes.

But as Alex stared at him, the smallest sensation of recognition sparked in his chest. Under all the filth and grime, something about the man looked familiar. 

His gaze once again flickered over his entire face, considering the intense sense of deja-vu he felt as he intently stared back into the man's eyes, which bore the dullness of years worth of experience combined with a strange disorientation, as if he had woken up from a long coma. Suddenly recalling his high school history class, a strange, impossible idea formed in his head. It seemed absurd, but maybe, just maybe... 

 

“P-Pardon me-” he squeaked, “A-are you…. Aaron Burr, sir?”

 

And just like that, the primal look in the man's eyes was gone, replaced with a bewildered, startlingly human look of shock.

  
  


“.....what?”


End file.
